Together we made it - the day I became a Channel Swimmer

 I hadn't intended to be writing this blog today - I had planned my next blog to be about my improvements in running. However, rather dramatically late on Friday evening I got the call saying I was swimming The English Channel in the morning. I feel I need to write the account of this while it is fresh in my memory for the benefit of those reading and myself. I am yet to come to terms with what I have just achieved and haven't been able to pinpoint my emotions towards it, so as writing helps me get my feelings out I hope this will show the raw emotion from the day and the aftermath.

 We had been told throughout the week that the likelihood of us swimming in the week of our window was decreasing as the days went on. I was on call from Saturday 9th August like a coiled spring. Hurricane Bertha made her appearance on Saturday morning and took her time to do her worst - leaving force 8 winds and waves 1-3 metres high by Wednesday. Our window was being extended and were told on Thursday evening we were not going until the earliest Monday, most likely Tuesday. I resigned myself to this fact, as did the rest of the team, and got myself covered (or just about) at work. On the Thursday I therefore got my training done early in the day so I could go out with my mum to drop my Dad off for dinner with a colleague and see my nan. Due to time constraints mum and I hadn't planned on eating but realised after leaving my nan's house we could grab something just before picking my Dad up. In hindsight it's lucky we did!

Me and mum out on the town!

We had a 'Wagamama' in Reading and then picked up my Dad and his friend (he said he didn't want me to say he was drunk so I will say he was sufficiently merry). I was looking forward to getting back as had work at 6am. However, at 10.10pm my heart started racing. I read on our channel swim Facebook group that the captain of the boat had considered it safe enough for us to swim in the morning. So it was all systems go - I had to be in Dover at 9.30am. I also realised I had no food to take with me as I hadn't planned to be going so we then had to do a detour to a 24 hour Tesco. My heart was racing and my chest hurt. I was actually having to make myself deep breathe to try and calm myself down. The trip to Tesco was eventful to say the least. Me, my mum and my dad were running around Newbury's Tesco at 11.30pm grabbing all sorts of confectionery. Cakes, chocolate, sweets, biscuits, malt loaf, you name it I had it. I did decide however to not get any savoury goodies, my mum joking I wouldn't want any crisps as I would've had enough salt from the sea. Ironically all I fancied on the boat was crisps and savoury food!

 We got back home at just gone midnight. I had to get to sleep as I had to be up at 4am. I was buzzing. I was worried I had forgotten something and things kept going round and round my head as I lay in bed. I also HAD to paint my nails pink in preparation - call me vain! I didn't get to sleep until gone 1am and then my alarm woke me again at 4am. I showered quickly, more to wake me up than anything else - I was aware I would be swimming in shit in a few hours. I said my goodbyes to my parents and after a quick flap after realising I had no diesel in my car which meant I returned to fill it up at home, I was on my way. I met Ann, a member of the team at her house. It was decided it would be better for me to get a lift rather than travel alone for 3 hours to Dover and then have to do the journey alone afterwards. We picked up Julia, another member, had some obligatory photos and then we really were on our way to Dover. I was feeling ridiculously nervous and didn't have much to add to any conversation.

 We were in Dover at 8.45am. We grabbed coffee and some final provisions and met the rest of the team by the marina. I seemed to be the only one who felt nervous. Phil for example greeted me by skipping towards me. I know I have done some testing challenges in my years, Ironman most notably, however I really was facing so many of my fears during this one. I hate being cold and was blackmailed into doing it non wetsuit, sea creatures creep me out (most notably jellyfish and whales) and I have to shamefully admit I am petrified of the dark. At 23 I still sleep with a light on. I always had one when I was a child and the comfort of having a light has stuck with me. Therefore the night swim I would inevitably have to do was looming over me as my biggest fear. Furthermore, I was starting the pack off so my nerves were to be expected. We had some compulsory pictures including a selfie and then loaded our boat; Gallivant.

Team selfie

Loading the boat

Excitement - Dave, Rob and I

Me, Gill and Gallivant

 I updated my final thoughts on social media and then we were off. As we left the marina to get to Shakespeare beach where we would start, I began to get ready. I then had 10 minutes to reflect.

In deep reflection

I sat on the front of the boat with the team. By this point I was feeling nervous, apprehensive and excited, these mixture of emotions did make me emotional. I am not going to lie a few tears were shed as I sat thinking of Rose. This challenge always was for me and was a side mission from my Ironman dream to get to Kona in Rosie's memory but I couldn't help pray she was looking over me. I had a feeling if she was she would be pointing down saying that's my crazy Auntie - this thought made me smile. Before I knew it I was being told to get in the water. My Dryrobe came off and I was ready. I jumped in and swam to shore being greeted almost instantly with jellyfish (a few squeals were heard). Once at the beach I had to put my hands in the air to signify I was ready to start. The boats' horn then sounded and that was the beginning of our Channel Swim. A guy on the beach wished me good luck and then I ran back in the water and dived in, adrenaline finally taking hold. I can't remember much of that swim apart from when the water suddenly shifted about 30 minutes in from a clearish blue to a murky brown. This to me signaled I was heading into unknown territory - I said to myself as Dorothy would, "We are not in Kansas anymore".

Starting from Shakespeare beach

During - good bye Dover

First leg over

The changeover was relatively easy, Ann merely jumped in behind me and then I had to climb out via the steps. I did have to spider crawl over the boat however which I can't imagine was a good look when only wearing a swimming costume.

The spider crawl

 The water wasn't as cold as I was expecting and apart from a sea beard (algae that stuck to your face) I was told I looked good. My Garmin also told me I had swum 5km in the hour (for those who don't know swimming that's pretty fast - although these time splits were consistent during each of my swims I think there were some GPS issues). The Dryrobe my mum had recently bought me for the event was a great piece of kit. It warmed me up quickly and meant I avoided flashing the rest of my team anymore than I already had done throughout training. After changing I grabbed a cup of tea and some custard creams and sat on the front deck talking - this wasn't that bad. I had 5 hours until I had to swim again...

 About 3 hours in I began to feel ill, as did some others. I thought I was going to be the first victim to Gallivant however after a lie down I managed to feel a bit better. The first victim however was Dave. He was sick 10 minutes before he was due to swim. He then proceeded to be sick throughout his swim. During his swim Ann was also sick. This was 6 hours in and the calmer seas of Dover were behind us. The sea was pretty damn rough. We were sliding all over the boat and it was a struggle to swim in. We asked the driver when he came round to check on us how we were doing and he said that we were currently looking at a 22 hour crossing. This news came hard. We knew it wasn't going to be an easy crossing and that Dave's condition meant we couldn't make huge gains but that was a blow. Gill assured us that they were just scaremongering to try and push us on. Scaremongering or not I was ready to give the channel some. It was my turn to swim again after Dave's efforts - hats off to him for swimming through his sickness. As I waited to jump in I said to Gill "See you on the other side" and put my hand over the rose tattoo on my thigh to signify I have Rosie with me.

Jumping in for my second swim

My rose tattoo to signify Rosie is always with me

The sea was considerably rougher to swim in than before. At one point I saw the bottom of the boat as a wave pushed it sideways. I even decided to swim a little further away from the boat as I was worried one big wave would whack me into the side of it. I said to myself, "This is the closest I ever want to get to 'The Perfect Storm'!". Regardless of all of this I pushed on hard - I felt in control and comfortable. I got stung a few times by jellyfish and saw many. At one point I looked down and saw 5 candy floss looking creatures bobbing maybe 3 metres below me and then looked to my left and saw 2 transparent orange and pink ones. These were the ones that then stung me on my wrist. My Garmin then began rubbing on my latest war wound making for an unpleasant experience but as Gill said before we started "Whatever happens just keep swimming" so I did. My hour went pretty quick and I actually enjoyed it although was ready to get out. When I did get out I got lots of congratulations about it being a brilliant swim. The driver said I caught us up and Phil said he was assessing our progress by how close we were to the boats in front also doing crossings and I reeled them in. This made me feel good. After changing I chatted a bit, got some food down my neck and then decided to go downstairs to try and get some sleep. Although by then it was still 4 hours until I would swim again the third leg was hanging over me as the most daunting. It would be at 11.30pm meaning it would be in complete darkness.

 I didn't get much sleep down there. My feet were not getting warm again and took a full 3 hours in my sleeping bag for them to have any sort of sensation again. I watched my team mates swim from the window below deck and sent a few messages to my mum when I got signal. I gave up on sleep after a while and went back on deck before the hour countdown began. I was so nervous. I knew this leg would be my worst. I got kitted up and ready and sat on the front of the deck staring at the amass of stars that were above me. I had never seen so many and if you stared hard and long enough more seemed to appear. It was magical. However scared I was I will always remember this special moment. I listened to Coldplay's 'A Sky Full of Stars' and hoped that one of those stars was Rosie. I needed her now more than ever. Here is the status I wrote 5 minutes before my swim,

"About to do the scariest leg for me - the one in the complete darkness. Had 15 minutes to reflect by listening to 'A Sky Full of Stars' whilst staring at the fullest sky of stars ever. The serenity of this adventure is amazing and hard to capture in words. The only way I can is by saying it is surreal. Hope you're shining down Rose - I need you now xxx"

 The time came around and I could not prolong the inevitable. It was time to jump in. The water felt colder to me (even though everyone else thought the French water was warmer). This was the only leg in which I really felt cold, I believe this was because I wasn't swimming as fast as I could due to not being comfortable which meant my core temperature dropped. I stayed close to the boat as I liked the comfort of seeing the light from it and always tried to keep myself in the illuminated water. I was swimming every second stroke meaning I looked at the boat every time I went to breathe. I normally breathe every three meaning I am a bilateral breather, however I could not face looking out to the left to an empty dark sea of nothingness. I tried it a few times and I actually felt my heart beating faster as if it was going to explode out of my chest. There is definitely a deep rooted phobia there. I did however notice that the rising moon was huge and was a beautiful shade of orange and pink. I was swimming by pink moonlight. 
 That hour dragged, I was desperate for the time alerts on my watch to go off. It was during this swim that I questioned the sanity of the solo swimmers. If it wasn't for being part of a team who relied on me I could've given up. I was bored, cold, tired, scared and way out of my comfort zone. I realised, for the definite near future, I had achieved all I wanted to achieve out of swimming the channel and I was doing so as a relay. Doing a solo you cannot stop at all, can't have that necessary hug from mum that we all need sometimes. I thought I was quite mentally strong but the soloists have to be made of some strong stuff. When I got out after my long hour I literally took my swim hat off to them! I was so relieved for this swim to be over. Whilst getting changed I text my mum saying I missed her, put my head in my towel and began to cry until I stopped myself, saying into the towel "Man the fuck up". I managed to get a hot chocolate down me and then went for a sleep below deck. I then had a very disturbed sleep constantly thinking about when we would make it to France. If everything went to plan that would be the last time I would swim. 

 Gill came in and asked me around 2am if I would like to swim with Julia to the finish (depending on whether she made it before the necessary changeover). Despite feeling rough I said I would like to but didn't want to seem too keen as didn't want to seem like I was taking the glory having started as well. No-one wanted to however, the channel had taken everything from us. However, Gill who wasn't a planned swimmer but came to support us and organised EVERYTHING said she could. Gill wanted to and after all Gill had done for us did not want to take this away from her. Of course I let Gill have the opportunity and she excitedly ran off to get changed. I decided it was time to resurface. The finish ended up being a pretty tense or as Gill would say, exciting moment. Julia was told upon entering her swim she had half a mile to shore (well rocks). She had therefore expected to be finished within 30-40 minutes. However, although the tide was said to get calmer nearer France it wasn't. When we left Dover we were being pushed 1.5 knots, during Julia's final swim she was being pushed 4 knots. As the end of her hour slot approached she was 400m away from Cap Griz Nez. This meant that Gill couldn't swim in with her as we had to do a changeover. Unfortunately for Dave who was still chucking up it meant he had to get in for a few minutes. So Dave and Julia swam to Cap Griz Nez together. This is basically an accumulation of rocks underneath a light house. They had to get there, climb on the rocks and swim back as quickly as possible as the rough tide was making it a matter of safety. The tide was basically trying to wash them and us past this point. If they did not do this it would mean Dave would've had to swim his full hour towards another section of France where we could land - meaning I would be swimming again (a thought I was not looking forward to). It is said that the tides and currents around Cap Griz Nez are the reasons as to why so many crossing attempts fail. Well done to Dave and Julia for battling onto the rocks, making time for a celebratory hug, and then getting back off again. Obviously at 3am it was not clear enough for us to be able to capture the moment we made it to France but we bloody did it! We were channel swimmers in an official time of 16h59m.

Our route to France

 The moments after that were surreal. In fact the best word for the whole trek was surreal. We all took different places to talk, sleep and reflect upon reaching France. Julia, Rob and Ann were below deck sleeping. Gill, Dave, Phil and I were at the back of the boat. We all chatted for a while and then parted again. Phil and I sat looking out the back of the boat towards the French island we had just swum to. There were a few conversations about how we felt and 'what next?' but as poignant a moment it was we were shattered. I had swum the channel on 2 hours sleep. It was also a moment that could be enjoyed in silence - sometimes silence speaks a thousand words. I thought of moving, of Rosie, and my feelings towards Ironman Wales. This time of reflection meant it wasn't long until we drifted off to sleep. After an hour sleeping upright became uncomfortable, Phil and I went downstairs to lie down properly. Not long after that we were woken up and told we had arrived back at Dover Harbour. It was all over. We cleared the boat of our kit, thanked the observer and drivers, and said our goodbye's to each other. 

 I was back home at 9.30am and in bed by 10am. I actually remember nothing of arriving back home. I felt numb, almost empty. I couldn't believe what I had just done. I slept from 10am-4.30pm. I then thought it was a good idea to have a shower. The day felt very weird. I shared a bottle of wine with my mum and carb loaded (eating real food again was lovely as opposed to haribo and malt loaf). I then went to bed again ready for work the day after. Even as I lay in bed that night it had still not sunk in what we achieved. 

 So here comes the reflective and soppy bit. So it has been over 24 hours since we arrived back in Dover - has it sunk in yet? No - I am still feeling very empty. Phil and I spoke briefly about it and he agreed on the feeling of emptiness. I questioned whether it was me being tired, overwhelmed, cold (I was still cold Saturday evening), having picked up a cold so not feeling 100% or just general appreciation or sadness that it was all over. Much like an Ironman you gear up for this epic day and then it is all over. All those months of training, hype, build up and then it's over as quickly as it began. Phil believed that it was due to there being no 'sprint finish' for most of us - no adrenaline or endorphin hit to ride the elation of completing something. Hopefully in the next few days when I awake from the euphoria/relief I can appreciate what we did. 
 So, would I do it again? No. I have achieved all I wanted to out of crossing the channel as a team.
 Did I find it hard? Honestly, it was not the hardest thing I have ever done but it tested me in different ways. I found the mental side of getting out, being bashed about the boat whilst changing and recovering horrible. Then there was the horrible countdown until your next swim which drained me mentally and we had a seemingly big 5 hour gap between each person. I personally think I would rather do it solo than have any lesser time than 3 hours to recover and recuperate energy. I will admit now that I arrogantly thought I would find it a piece of cake and I definitely didn't. Apart from my horrible third swim the hard bit actually wasn't the swimming it was everything that came with it. We trained well for the swimming so were prepared for that however some things, like being thrown around on a boat and getting sea sick, you just can't prepare for.
 Big question - would I do it solo? Doing a solo crossing was another thing on my ever growing bucket list and there was a point on my first and second swims I thought I could continue. However, after my horrific final swim it is not something I would even consider for a considerable amount of time. I have achieved all I need to right now and have nothing to prove. IF I ever did decide to however I would have to solely focus on it and train hard in order to get good time splits. I would also have to find something to occupy my mind whilst swimming. I have said on numerous occasions I love swimming and the pure reflective enjoyment and feeling of being free however swimming for 15-20 hours alone is another level. Ironman is a lonely sport, swimming is a solitary sport and as much as I can bear my own company I think I would drive myself insane! It's time to focus on triathlon and Ironman for now. 

 Finally I want to say thank you to everyone who supported me through this adventure. The amount of Facebook and Twitter notifications was astounding and if I could have I would've replied to every single one. I can assure you the words that were said really pushed me on when times got tough. I also want to thank all those who sponsored me recently - it means more than I can express in words.
 I of course owe a big thank you to The Salty Seals team; Ann, Dave, Julia, Phil and Rob - without you guys it obviously would not have been possible. Together we achieved our dreams and ticked another thing off our bucket lists. I may be going away to Lanzarote and starting afresh but I think this sort of challenge bonds you in a different way. Regardless of what happens or where we all end up we will all remember with who and when we became channel swimmers. It really is a once in a lifetime memory.
 I also want to say a HUGE thank you to Gill who's selfless desire to see us become channel swimmers shone through even though she was not swimming and when she must have inevitably been struggling with her own emotions as well as tiredness. Gill was our mascot and organiser and was always the face you longed to see when feeling rough. Your support and knowledge throughout the whole process including training made it that much better. I challenge anyone to not brighten up upon talking to Gill and seeing her smile. You truly are one of a kind and I will never forget the kindness you have shown me in regards to making this challenge seem possible. Aside from this you have shown me emotionally that life carries on and as Dory would say, "Just keep swimming". This is a quote that can be put towards swimming against the tide and to life in general . If I ever do do a solo you're my lady!

 With the channel ticked off it's now full steam ahead to Ironman Wales. In four weeks time I will be putting my mind and body through what I believe really will be the hardest event of my life.

So....did I mention? I AM A CHANNEL SWIMMER.
    

Smiles at the start

 

Smiles at the end

Die with memories, not dreams

 I wasn't intending to write this blog post so soon after my social media announcement about moving to Lanzarote (for those who haven't read it on there - I am moving to Lanzarote!). However I feel I should before this weekend as I could be needing to write another shortly after detailing my Channel Swim efforts. Aside from this fact however I also found a perfect reason to explain one of the reasons as to why I am making this life changing move. This came to me whilst I sat in Sky's canteen having dinner. It dawned on me as I poured my Uncle Ben's risotto into a container and topped that off with some Tesco pre-cooked chicken that I had had all my meals that day either on the way to work or at work. I awoke at 6am and got my sports gear on and grabbed my bags with my work clothes inside. I then started on my 1h30 commute to work. This is where I had a banana and an obligatory Skinny Latte that I picked up at Fleet Services to break the journey up. I then trained for 2 hours before work at Sky's gym. After a tough workout I got some breakfast and ate at my desk. I had my pre-made pasta for lunch at work, trained again on another break and then ate dinner at work. I will work until 10pm and then travel the 1h30 back home only to flop exhausted on my bed only to repeat it all over again the next day. That's 17 and a half hours away from home. The routine of it is depressing. Even if I got back at 11.30pm I would have to be asleep by midnight to even guarantee I got 6 hours sleep (2 hours short of the recommended amount). I see quotes from coaches on a daily basis slating people like myself, "sleep is just as important as the hours you spend training". However, for me there are physically no more hours in the day for me and the last time I checked no-one had invented a Bernard's Watch where you can stop time. I don't want to sound like I am moaning as I picked this job and the industry - I knew shift work was hard and I am not complaining as I am doing something about it but I did think even before I made the decision to move to Lanzarote, "Is this really what my life at 23 years old has come to?" (and with a successful career in this industry it would only get worse). Something had to give. Since working at Sky triathlon has increasingly become a bigger part of my life and since September last year when I made that promise to Rosie, my real focus. The balance was getting tough to keep. Which was more important to me? This revelation came on my latest trip to Lanzarote...

 I think it is evident from my Lanzarote blog post from July (A life changing trip - my third time to Lanzarote) that I absolutely adored my training, the friends I made and the island. From day 2 of the trip I was thinking "I could live here" - in all honesty after my first trip to Lanzarote in March where I first fell in love with the island I knew that. Someone recently told me I write about the island like it's a long lost friend - quite poetic and a nice way to explain it. Throughout the week which got increasingly better the discussion in my head about moving got louder and louder. It went from "I could live here" to "I want to live here" to "I need to live here". However the "sensible" part of my brain was ringing loud; 'you aren't risky enough', 'you can't lose your house' (I had had an offer on a 2 bed cottage accepted just days before flying)  'you can't leave your job and the money'. The long rides enabled me to argue these over and over until I began to find some real things about myself. I love my job, I worked hard to get where I am, but I admitted to Sam after some time of reflection, that I like saying I work at Sky News, it gets a 'Wow - what do you do there' every single time. Was this the reason I was staying? Or was it this admittance to myself which meant I was ready to say goodbye? I had my career planned in Sky, I was due to go on a secondment to my dream job imminently (that I had arranged) which would see me travel the world following the stories and reporters. Surely I couldn't give this up?

 Those long rides were as cliche and dramatic as it sounds were absolutely life changing. I learnt so much about myself and what I want from life. I learnt how to cope with the breakdown of my 5 year relationship. I realised although I think of Rosie more often when cycling in Lanzarote it does not bring me down. I feel as if I am being proactive and for the first time since losing Rose, coping. I also realised I hate the materialism of the UK. I do not need much (bar a nice bike) in Lanzarote to keep me happy and I if I ever get bored of the lava fields it will be time to leave! You work to live, not live to work. This was the lifestyle I craved and I believe needed - I felt liberated by it.
 The arguments continued in my head throughout that week but I began making potential plans. First I decided I would try this new job and see how it goes. The next day I decided I would see how it goes and try to get a sabbatical. I wanted to live the Lanzarote dream so badly but I was terrified of throwing the routine life I had in the UK away as much as it knackered me out. I wished I could live both paths but that was not possible.

 I didn't delve into this on my Lanzarote blog as I wanted to portray the trip as the happy trip it was and not for the dips, however, the day before I left I was reserved and felt like I was in a bubble, watching the world go by. I didn't feel like I was leaving to end a holiday, I felt like I was leaving home. As I sat in the airport having gone through customs I received messages from the friends I made there. Nathan's lovely words made me cry and that didn't stop when Sam was messaging me too. I felt numb and was unsure what I was going to do even when I landed in the UK. I tried to make myself believe it was a holiday over and I could just return when I saw fit. I did the two night shifts I had left (a depressing whack back to reality) and then saw my mum. I am very much a person who speaks through words. If I have something I want to say I write it down and email it so I can be objective, get my points out and make a conclusion, much like a generic story or journalistic piece. However, I could not do this this time. Of course mum asked how Lanzarote was, my reply was I want to move there - she laughed, I didn't. I then cried and explained as much as I could through the tears. Mum then said, "I just want you to be happy". She also said, "After everything we have been through it is evident you only live once, I fully support you". I felt like I could burst - I needed my parents support more than anything. In those 15 minutes we pulled out of the house purchase. My life was starting to change and my tears soon disappeared. I had butterflies full of excitement - I knew in that moment I had made the best decision of my life.
 When my sister  found out however I felt awful and selfish. I couldn't do this to her. I doubted myself - had I really done the right thing? Could I really leave my sister now? However selfish this may sound I knew I had to as I truly believe by staying in the UK I would be heading in a downward spiral of depression. I admitted to myself that I simply was not happy in the UK. People may think I'm mad to be giving up my job and the decent salary I earn for my age and I am scared but back to another one of my favourite quotes, "If your dreams don't scare you, they're not big enough".

 Another example to push me to make the move was when I was sat at work looking at some of the vision from Gaza (the stuff viewers would never get to see). I have grown, or more like, had to grow a thick skin since working at Sky News as some of the images we see are horrific. However, for the first time during my time there I couldn't cope with it and nearly broke down seeing the bodies of children and the anguish and pain of their parents, something I have seen first hand. I couldn't edit it and my colleague said I didn't have to - since then he has not made me. Maybe my skin has weakened, maybe I want to run away from the truth (judge me all you want) but either way I don't want to see it anymore. I don't want to see it on a screen in a room let alone follow this despair around the world. I knew then this industry was not right for me in this stage of my life and my emotional state.

 I truly believe that it was fate that took me on that holiday and I think it's fate I met the people I did. Sam, Nathan, Seb and I are all different ages, brought up in different ways, in different places, however we all have a past. We have all had some form of sadness that has changed us a person. I think we were meant to meet and I have gained so much inspiration from you all. Without meeting Nathan and Seb who made the move to Lanzarote I know I wouldn't even have dreamed of doing this - so thank you! And without Sam well I wouldn't have had the amazing time I did or even met the people we did so I can't thank you enough and I know I've made a lifelong friend in you.
 Finally I also believe this venture is Rosie guiding me in some way. Without losing Rosie my path would never have been taken on this journey. I would never have been chasing Kona, hell I may never have done an Ironman again! Rosie although not with us in person has made me discover my real passion in life, fitness and triathlon.

 So what am I doing out there - well I am tempting no fate but I would like to help others achieve their sporting dreams but I shall say no more. I will however be going regardless of a job proposition, the latest date I will be there is the 27th October but job dependent I could be there within a month. I have learnt rather painfully over the last 11 months that life is too short and you only get one chance at it, living in Lanzarote is something I have to do in my lifetime. I will train like a bitch to get to Kona in Rosie's memory whilst there and I am going to change my career to my passion. Bring on the Lanza lifestyle!
 I am going to finally finish with a quote I have as the background on my phone to remind me every time I look at it to make my dream a reality. Thank you for all your support - there will be more information to follow so watch this space!

The real countdown begins - what will be will be

 So sadly all good things come to an end and I am finally getting over the nostalgia of not being in Lanzarote anymore. Welcome back to the 15 hour days at Sky News. I thought I would mark this landmark countdown to my 'A' race of this year by writing a blog update. It is officially 6 weeks until Ironman Wales. This time in 43 days I will be on the walk down to start the 2.4mile swim loop around Tenby's North Beach. I will relive all the emotions I encountered last year and once that cannon goes off it's me against the clock and the 2000 other athletes who will be wanting to complete the brutal Welsh Ironman course. In particular however, I'll be chasing and trying to fend off the 10 other women in my age group to get that desired Kona slot.

 So how am I feeling? I can honestly say I am feeling good. I am excited. I have built up a following of people some of whom are either competing or travelling to Tenby to support me (as well as experience the unique atmosphere that Ironman Wales offers). I am also excited about challenging myself and to see my progression. Being the only Ironman I have done twice I will be able to get a clear comparison of how I have improved in a year. I am also excited to throw myself into an Ironman that means so much to me. I have no doubt it will be emotionally tough. Ironman is that in itself let alone the pain surrounding the area. I couldn't hold it together in Lanzarote, how will I cope when the stakes are higher and the location holds so many memories? I obviously cannot answer this now but I am full of anticipation (I am awaiting the nerves to kick in anytime in the next few weeks though).
 I have obviously thought about this race a lot and what it means to me over the last year and after much reflection feel for the first time ever I have truly taken the pressure off myself. Not so much that I do not want to taste the success but just enough to be able to say 'what will be will be'. I have exciting things happening over the next year and much to look forward to. For my own happiness and success I need to go into Wales with the same anticipation I did last year and just enjoy the event and the unique atmosphere and support of Tenby, which I still argue cannot be rivaled anywhere else. I have even spoken to one of my main 'rivals', although I don't like calling her that. Jodie Moss came second in our age group last year, I came in third 30 minutes behind, and she is going for that one Kona slot this year as well. I had done my own research into Jodie previously, as she admitted she had done with me. I had decided to stop analysing the competition a few months ago, concluding I can only do my best. Whilst sat being interviewed for a future book (not about me personally) the author, Lucy, told me she had previously interviewed Jodie. In fact she had heard about me through Jodie. Lucy explained to me that Jodie wanted it so badly but also wanted me to have it too due to what I have been through. Lucy said she was lovely and I can now vouch for that too. She has also just gone through some of her own personal issues and I am deeply sorry Jodie. I promise I'm not the sort to slash your tyres, many say I'm too nice, so I look forward to meeting you personally. As much as I want qualify this year I have no hard feelings for who gets it - at the end of the day the best man, or in our case woman, wins and there is no point over analysing the competition as with any Ironman, it is a long day where anything can happen! If it doesn't I will just train harder next year and my journey will continue.

 So what else has happened? Well...I can now call myself a Team GB age group triathlete as my GB kit arrived this week. I was so excited when I saw the package on the floor and whipped off the clothes I was in and put it on. Luckily it fit! Seeing my name on a GB trisuit was an amazing moment - if I had chance to think I'm sure I would've cried. I rushed over to my parents wearing my trisuit and revealed it to my Dad. He gave me a huge hug - a special moment for us both.

GB selfie - I think I'm allowed this one!

My name in all its glory!

 I am in Ironman Wales mode at the moment so haven't really acknowledged the full extent of what this means to me but I shall delve a little. I never ever thought it would be possible for me, the fat kid who wasn't brought up on a bike and could only run when forced (probably for chocolate), would have earned the privilege to wear a GB trisuit. It's a dream I never even sought possible. It also has to be said none of this would've been achieved without having Rosie as my inspiration and motivation. Every step I take within triathlon she is there with me, so I owe much of this achievement to Rose as I do to myself. So yes, it means a hell of a lot. Some people aim for this as opposed to Kona, hopefully one day I'll achieve both. The event in which I wear it is a half Ironman distance (1.2m, 56m, 13.1m) triathlon (middle distance) in Peguera in Mallorca on the 18th October. My parents and my sister will be coming out to support me so will be a nice time away too.
 I am struggling to accept this is a personal achievement but when I have completed Wales it'll be my next big event so maybe it'll all kick in then? However, I still think it will be one of those things I can never really comprehend or put into words what it really means. I just hope somewhere down the line my parents and my family are proud of me, as as well as doing what I do for Rosie I am doing it with them in mind too.

 Finally, my next event is swimming the channel. My window opens on the 9th August which means I can get a call at any time over this week telling me it is time to head to Dover. I need to pack a channel swim bag that I take everywhere, much like an expectant mother! My honest emotions towards this is that I am absolutely crapping myself. I am beyond nervous. I hate the dark, the cold and all sea creatures. Why did I sign up for this?! The two quotes I have in my head when I think about all these fears is, "If your dreams don't scare you, they're not big enough" and "Do one thing everyday that scares you" (I'll certainly be doing my fair share when in the channel!). As part of a relay team someone recently mentioned about the order. Some suggested that we pick it out of a hat but I piped up and explained my worries. I opted to go first mainly because I will happily admit I am the woosiest at getting in and getting in from shore is a comfort thing for me. I am also freaking out about the changeovers in the middle of the channel so getting to see 5 others do it before I have to swim again will give me a confidence boost. The rules go that once you let go of the boat you cannot touch it again until your hour of swimming is up. By going first it means I will probably swim the most but this only weirdly excites me more even though it does mean longer in the water with the jellyfish! We may also have a BBC film crew with us on our crossing, so another bit of motivation to not be a woos! I will however take Dory's advice from Finding Nemo and 'just keep swimming'.

 I also want to welcome into the world my youngest nephew Charlie James Robert. You will be smothered in love and so so spoilt! I cannot wait for cuddles tonight! So as per I have an exciting few weeks coming up - will update on some further news soon!

A life changing trip - my third time to Lanzarote

 Now where do I start? I am sure anyone who has me on social media is fully aware how much I enjoyed my latest trip to Lanzarote considering how many times I was bragging about the fun I was having online. So brace yourselves here is the full account of that epic week which turned out to be one of the best holidays of my life.

 I mentioned in my previous blog that I was not on my best form emotionally and I wasn't much better even when my trip to Lanzarote was imminent. I will admit it now but I was worried about going alone. My parents were worried about me and kept questioning whether I really wanted to go. I smiled and kept saying yes, making myself look excited but deep down I was nervous. I am a social and outgoing person when comfortable, you would have a hard job to shut me up when I am with a group of people but I was concerned I was going to be lonely even if to some extent I did want to be alone to think and reflect on everything that had happened over the previous weeks. I went to the airport on Tuesday morning straight from a night shift. The weather was appalling and I struggled to see when driving. I felt somewhat sad to be going. Although I was excited I did question whether I should even go, I mean it was costing me a lot of money so needed to justify getting the benefit of being there. I arrived at Stansted in the early morning and it was like a cattle market. I was exhausted and was sat on the floor leaning against a wall trying to sleep. After what seemed like a lifetime it was time to board, I slept the whole flight, I felt like I was on a drug. Everything went smoothly upon landing, I grabbed my bag which was there waiting and then got my hire car - a little Vauxhall Corsa. I felt so independent and although still worried about being alone was relishing this a little. As I was driving (by memory) to the other side of the island to La Santa, I began to smile again. I love this island. The quaint villages, white houses, locals with dogs walking alongside them, children playing outside and of course the cyclists. I was staying at a work colleagues friends place who had moved out there to go pro - he was in the UK seeing family and was renting his 2 bed apartment out whilst doing so. I met his coach and the local sports masseuse to get the keys. Him and his wife showed me to the apartment. I put my stuff down and flopped on the bed back into deep sleep - what was wrong with me? I awoke at 4pm and decided to go and get the bike I had hired from the local bike shop 'Pro Bike'. I decided on getting a Scott Plasma TT bike and over the week I did not regret that decision - it was hard to see her go! Whilst getting my bike Maria the owner said she had had an email from a lady called Sam who wanted some company on bike rides. She asked if I was alone and whether I would like her number. Would I?! We have since named Maria cupid as Sam and I became inseparable.

Such a pleasure to ride

 I got back to the apartment and began to get ready to go out for a lonely pizza dinner and an early night ready for my morning ride. I did feel pretty lonely but was enjoying the quiet (or was I just telling myself that?). I text my mum saying "I'm going to be reading a lot of books this week". I decided to also text Sam not thinking I would get anything back until the morning. Within 2 minutes I had a response. She was asking me out to dinner to one of the top end restaurants in the village (a place Dad and I frequented a lot when we visited last). I laughed and text my mum explaining my budget of €200 for the week may take a battering tonight but it was only one night...I met Sam and 3 other ladies at 20.30 in the village. The second I saw Sam waving me down from across the road screaming 'Hollie' I knew we were in for a good week. That dinner was then a tongue tennis game. Sam and I just played off each other - I brought my training plan down and Sam was up for joining me for the whole week. We were also doing Ironman Austria together next year - fate?

 I went back feeling so content. I shared my story with the women and everyone was so lovely even if they did think I was mad for the intensity of my training plan. Turned out Sam had been there for 2 weeks before hand in Club La Santa (the big triathlon sports base 1km up the road) on compassionate leave as her father had passed away and she wanted to getaway. She then wanted to stay on even longer so did so but in another village 10km down the road as Club La Santa had no availability. I met Sam early on the Wednesday morning and we went for an open water swim. I then drove her to her new accomodation before getting ready for a ride. Yet again we didn't stop gassing and the conversation flowed so easy. I was talking about my emotions easier than I had done with anyone. Our situations seemed to mirror eachother and that wasn't just our grief. As well as instantly clicking I also found Sam an instant breath of fresh air. Her outgoing personality, attitude and confidence streamed out of her and I loved it. She was friendly, funny, approachable and impossible to not like. I have learnt so much from her over the last week so thank you for that Sam. Never again will I be worried or fearful to ask someone to go for a bike ride with them. I love triathlon for the camaraderie and community it creates but I must've only have seen half of it!
 Sam and I religiously stuck to my training plan throughout that week. On the first day we cycled to Playa Blancha had a lovely lunch and then when her chain tangled up managed to get the local tri club (Tri Yaiza) who's kit was pink to fix it and then we rode with them for 50km speaking a warped mix of English and Spanish. Bike rides with company sometimes speak louder than words. We still want their kit - does our 50km together not make us honorary members? Ha!
 Something I was told about when arriving at my apartment was that the La Santa Fiesta was taking place over the weekend. I got no sleep on the Thursday night (the Spanish know how to party and they do so in the street). On Friday we knew we needed a good nights sleep as we were doing the Ironman bike route on the Saturday. It was decided we would go to 'Grillen' another great restaurant just up the road that I hadn't tried before. We thought we would get a big protein enriched treat meal before our mammoth ride and then stay at Sam's place where it was quiet. It was while we were at 'Grillen' that the chef, Nathan, a keen Lanzarote cyclist who was originally from the UK came over to ask if he could join our ride as he had heard through the waiter we were cycling in the morning. Sam had already recruited another woman to join us so we agreed for him to join, "The more the merrier!". The meal was amazing and we left with full tummies and got a good sleep ready for the ride in the morning.

Pre ride protein

 I am not going to lie I was worried about doing the Ironman route again. I struggled big time in May emotionally and physically and dreaded doing the long steep slog up 'Los Valles' to Haria (this time as we were going from La Santa this section was in the first 40km as opposed to 80km in). We all met at Club La Santa at 9am. Nathan instantly looked the part and us three were bantering off one another while we waited for the other recruit to join us. I explained about my Ironman exploits and we compared bikes before it was time to do some hard work. It was instantly noticeable that Nathan was a strong cyclist and being competitive was trying to show the minimal strength I do have in my legs. I still wasn't a patch on him but he was kind enough to stay with us girls and gave me loads of tips as well as complimenting me on my position when on my TT bars, "Get the iron out" he said (instant beaming smile). We spoke a lot about how he ended up in Lanzarote and I admired his push to make a new life away from the materialism and long hours of the UK. It was inspiring for me. I also of course shared my story. Apart from nearly pushing Sam off the road when our handlebars locked I got up Haria a lot easier than I did in May. The bike was a joy to ride and I did have my spurts were I put my head down zoomed ahead. I did this at a particular bit where I struggled mentally in the event - when I began crying and making my song up for Rosie. I began to repeat it to myself then, "Rosie Posie, help me along please do. I fucking struggling all for my love of you..." (read the Lanzarote blog for the full rendition). We had coffee at the top and then Nathan left to get back for work. Us three girls got on our way to Mirador Del Rio which Sam and I called Mordor and then decided who was which hobbit (see how our crazy minds just worked together). I pushed myself up and then became David Bailey, lying on the ground taking pictures as they both climbed up.

Sam and I halfway up

Me at the top

 It was then 70km to Puerto Del Carmen where we were getting lunch. I racked up 85km/h going down Mirador, my confidence on the bike was mind blowing considering how much of a pussy I was even 6 months ago. I'm sure my mum will crap herself when you actually consider that is over 50mph on a piece of carbon and wearing little more than some lycra and a helmet but let's not remind her of that too much! The thing we didn't do enough was refuel and about 20kms from Carmen I bonked. I was shaking and had to stop to cram 600 calories of flapjack down my neck. Energy restored it was on our way again. Marie the other Irish woman who joined us decided she had had enough for the day...then there were two. We got to Carmen although I nearly lost Sam going down hill into the town and carbed loaded up. I was still feeling crap and the way back was a struggle fighting against the horrific wind and our mental state. At one point we were going 8km/h on a flat as the head wind was so strong it was a battle for it not to push us backwards. We even had to climb Timanfaya (one of the feared climbs on the Ironman route) with a brutal headwind. It was at this point that Sam nearly had a tantrum. She was congratulating me on completing the Ironman and declared she would never consider it considering what we were going through (she changed her mind when she was off the bike and had some vodka down her neck). She also noted that you go through every emotion when on the bike for that long in the heat and faced with those winds, something I can vouch for. We had also decided on Friday night that we would have a drink on the Saturday and attend the Fiesta (the Saturday was the big finale night). My mentality was 'if you can't beat em, join em'. However, halfway up Timanfaya Sam declared she didn't want to go out, my heart sunk as the only thing pushing me on was having a drink! Once that climb was over Sam came back to normality again and when we got to Tinajo just 5km from home she was back. We got off the bike 10 hours after setting off. It was only now 2 months after Ironman Lanzarote that I felt some pride for what I achieved that day in May. Apparently the weather conditions were some of the worst they had been this year and just completing was an achievement. Once safely off our bikes for the day we then went for a swim (of course that's what normal people do) and then got ready to go out. We had planned to have a power nap but the music had started at 10pm and continued to get louder. We then thought we may as well go for a drink at 'Grillen'. I rewarded myself with a glass of my favourite white wine, Albarino while Sam had a vodka (or three). We ended up meeting up with Nathan and his flat mate, the local bike mechanic from Pro Bike, Seb. That night ended up being a messy one, Sam in Cinderella style lost a flip flop when being carried to bed. All I can say is that the Spanish know how to party!

Mid fiesta selfie (oh dear)

 In true athlete style however we were swimming as per the training plan on Sunday morning. The next part of the holiday was spent enjoying the company of the friends we had made. Sam and I still had our alone time but we also went on group rides altogether. I truly cannot thank Sam, Nathan and Seb for the amazing time I had on those days. The banter, the lovely meals out, the amazing Mediterranean lunches which were cooked by Nathan which was bound to be good considering his job as a chef, previously working in places such as Pennyhill Park in Surrey before he made his new life in Lanzarote (but I'm not going to give him a bigger head than he already has!).

Yum

 Before I knew it it was my last day in Lanzarote. Sam and I cycled to Playa Blancha and got some matching tacky bracelets as souvenirs and some waffles to refuel from my favourite cafe (which happened to be hiring haha).

Staff needed!

We then got ready for our last night out at 'Grillen'. As I walked into the restaurant a live singer was playing 'Let Her Go' by Passenger. This is the song I chose to be played at Rosie's funeral and although it choked me up I smiled whilst holding my glass of wine. To me it signified that Rosie was there watching down on me - as the Spanish would say Sallut! (Cheers)

Last night selfie (with a selfie stick)

 The goodbyes in the morning were hard. I didn't want to go and already miss the lifestyle and friends I made there.

 So was my week in Lanzarote beneficial after my previous doubts? I can categorically say it was. I got 35 tough hours of training in that week (even if I didn't touch on this that much) which I already feel stronger for. I know if I could spend a good amount of time there my bike split would get so much better. I also had time to think and reflect on life. I came back cleansed and happy. Everyone who has seen me in the few days I have been back has said that I look and sound happier. I will miss Rosie more with every single day that passes but I have found that being in Lanzarote takes me away, gives me a focus and for the first time in a long time makes me happy to be alive. My dream to get to Kona doesn't seem impossible out there. I was surrounded by like minded people who cycle and train passionately. Their way of life is perfect - you work to live not live to work out there. It is a case of me and my bike out there and those two things alone can make me happy when in a place you love. I honestly feel completely liberated from my trip. I have some big decisions to make in the coming months and although they scare me they excite me. Watch this space on that...

 So I just want to finish by thanking those who made it so special. Thank you Seb for your witty remarks, for fixing our bikes, for being the cameraman on our photoshoot (see below), for being a proper gent and for staying with us even though as an ex professional cyclist we would've seen smoke come off your bike wheels had you gone ahead. Thank you to Nathan for your stupid ways that never ceased to make me laugh even if you are 30 going on 13, for your passion in your job which was breath of fresh air, for your courage in making a new life for yourself given your tough past which is inspirational (any inspiration and strength you say you have got from me I assure you I have gained from you too). Thank you also for your kindness and most importantly your company. Lastly how can I not mention my lovely Sam? Thank you so much for being my partner in crime and honorary pink lady. Whenever I see a beetroot I will think of you and if I see a health shop I will have to get an obligatory coconut water in your memory. You have made me laugh and smile more than I have in the last 10 months and I truly know I have a friend for life in you. It's like we said on our first bike ride you never know when you will meet someone and make new friends. I truly think it's fate we met and I can't wait for all our next adventures together - watch out world! There is so much more I could say but by you just being you you have helped me overcome so much and I miss you already!
 Well, I think that's enough soppiness - sorry for those who have been sick! You have all made it a holiday to remember and I'll see you all when I return to Lanzarote, for yes, the FOURTH time this year to compete in the Ocean Lava Olympic Triathlon where Seb and Nathan will become triathletes. I'll give it as much as I've got although I don't think I'll ever get to their speed on the bike! Thank you Lanzarote - Ciao for now, my second home, I WILL be back!

Our Pro Bike photo shoot - surrounded by £20,000 worth of bikes!

Rear view

Pro Bike wankers

Pro Bike wankers

A PB at Pitsford

 On Sunday the 13th July I was competing in my first triathlon since Ironman Lanzarote, and my first Olympic distance for nearly a year. It would also be the day I would see Ryan, Rosie's boyfriend, become a triathlete in memory of Rose. We had arranged to do this together many months before and his determination and dedication to training for this event was lovely to see. He pretty much learnt how to swim, and bought all the kit needed with my apparent knowledgeable advice. On the lead up to this event I was not feeling good. I was having another emotional crash and didn't want to go. I was up at 4am on Sunday morning as it was a 2 hour drive and started at 7am. I couldn't gain the necessary motivation to compete that morning. The thing that finally kicked my butt into gear was when I was lying on the sofa drifting back to sleep feeling sorry for myself when I looked up and saw my favourite picture of Rose which I have as a canvas on my wall. She was looking down on me and I knew I had to do this for her. Inspiration restored I got all my kit in the car, making sure to pay attention to my head set cap on my bike for extra inspiration.

The canvas I have of Rosie on my wall

Some extra motivation on my bike

 The drive was long and somewhat emotional as within minutes of being in the car 'Let Her Go' by Passenger (the song I chose to be played at Rosie's funeral) came on the radio. Tears began to roll down my cheeks and my fight began to kick in. I stopped at the services to cram a muffin and a coffee down my neck as some form of race fuel (I know bad me). I got to the race site at 6.15 and Ryan arrived shortly after me with his Dad. We walked down to registration and I helped Ryan through the formalities of triathlon and racking. Before long it was time to get in the water. I am a quicker swimmer than Ryan but he was the quicker runner so the plan was for me to go ahead and see him on the run. The swim was relatively calm in comparison to the beatings I usually get with over 2000 people as there were only 107 people competing! I just took it easy (maybe too easy in hindsight) as I had no expectations of myself. I was out of the water in a disappointing for me 27m53 (which made me 25th out of the water). After a 2 minute transition it was off on the bike. I wanted to push myself here and as I had the adrenaline from competing running through my veins I was ready to do it too. The course was tougher than I imagined and was that lovely 'undulating' but at least it meant I could take advantage of getting on my bars when going downhill. I was averaging 31km/h and keeping constant tabs on who was around me. The aim of the game was to not let many overtake me and if it's a girl, have them! My sister, her family and their good friend and family came screaming past me 15kms into the ride and gave me a boost. I saw them a further twice around the course. I overtook a woman at 18kms in who I had spotted only for her to annoyingly overtake me 1km from the finish. I could see when she was on the bike that she was a better runner than me but that was not the point, this angered me. I was second woman for the majority of the bike and lost out in the final 1km. I did however come off the bike as third woman in 1h18. So it was onto the run, my weakest discipline and where I knew I would frustratingly see people come past. The weather was getting increasingly hot by now and although the setting for this loop around the lake was beautiful it was a challenging and undulating off road course. I just wanted to keep at a consistent pace, aiming for 5m30 per km. These did begin to slip and I saw, as predicted, people run past including three women (meaning I finished 6th woman). I did have one guy however who ran past me and said "You beasted that bike, I was trying to get you the whole way but just couldn't get you. Well done". With my pride taking over I let out a smile. I crossed the line in a disappointing 59min 10k run split (although it was slightly longer than 10km).

I even managed a smile coming into the finsih

This gave a total time of 2h48m32 and made me in 63rd position overall. Despite my inability to push more on the run that was a huge PB of 21 minutes. My 'disappointing' swim was 3 minutes quicker than last years efforts, my bike was 10 minutes faster and my run was 5 minutes faster, the rest was made up from faster transitions. Considering the Olympic in Reading last year was a week before Wales and was flat I would take that. Had I actually felt ready for the event who knows what I could've achieved! Moving forward with this PB I know where I can make gains - I need to focus on my run. Coming in with a podium position on the bike and losing it on the run is just demoralising, hard work wasted, but it also gives me a focus. Another point is although I do enjoy the distances in an Olympic triathlon they are not what I am training for. I have never done speed work on 10km so I can't beat myself up too much for once.



 Ryan crossed the line in  2h57m50 - not bad for his first Olympic triathlon. I'm sure Rosie was watching down with a huge beaming smile full of pride. He also admitted once he had finished he thinks he has the bug. I did warn him that triathlon is addictive!

Ryan and I showing off our medals

 After Sunday's efforts it was just 2 night shifts before heading to Lanzarote for the third time this year. This would be a training week that I was going on alone for some much needed miles in the legs and reflection after everything that had happened recently. There is SO much to write about that truly life changing holiday so stay tuned for the next blog!

Changes

 Once again I am faced with the same predicament as I was previously - how much do I share on a public blogging site? I have deliberated this a lot recently and decided to keep this section of my post short and sweet.

 I will briefly fill you in on the recent trip I took to Tenby for training. I hadn't been to Tenby since that fateful day in September last year so was unsure of the emotions that could overwhelm me. It took a mammoth 6 and a half hours to get there by which time I was quite irritable and after a little cry after crossing the Severn Bridge, quite emotional. Crossing into Wales was a poignant moment of reflection for me. As soon as I stepped out of the car and saw the beauty of Tenby with the sun shining down any bad emotions were put aside. Yes this place holds many memories, good and bad; the place I became an Ironman and the place I lost Rosie. However, for those reasons it is also a place I cherish. Dan was with me on this trip and we booked into our hotel and were wowed by our room with a view.

Nice view to wake up to

Posing by the harbour before dinner

The Ironman Wales swim location and famous Goskar rock you swim around

I had planned a sea swim at 6pm with a tri club I made friends with down there but didn't make it in time. I was disappointed but decided to refuel and get to sleep. I had a lovely night, shared a bottle of wine and had some amazing food at the best restaurant in Tenby 'The Moorings' (anyone doing Wales book it up!). I spoke to my coach, Mark, who had planned his training holiday, as he is also doing Wales, around when I was going. We arranged to meet the next morning on the beach to do some sea swimming. This would be followed by a tough skills bike session, topped off by a brick run. Mark spent all morning taking pictures of my stroke and painstakingly went through the changes I could make.

Pre swim

Arm out and breathe

Reach

 We all had a coffee and then I got ready for our ride. Mark took me up and down some of the most feared climbs around Tenby - including Heatbreak Hill and one I recall from last year being the worst climb I have ever done at an 18% gradient. I expected to be fitter but I really did feel better than last year. Heartbreak Hill didn't seem so bad but then I hadn't done 80 miles before getting there! After my testing ride we went for a short brick run and I quickly got into the pace I aim to do the whole Ironman Wales run in (watch this space for how that goes!). As we rounded along the promenade to the end of our run we imagined we were sprinting down the magic carpet and hearing "You are an Ironman!". For Mark this will be his 37th Ironman but he reminded me that I would beat him at something - I would be a double Ironman Wales finisher - I'll take that! After all of this exercise you can imagine the day had slipped away and it was a quick change to go to dinner, again at 'The Moorings', with Mark and his wife.
 The next morning I had to do an hour's TT along the testing Pembrokeshire countryside. I was actually fearing this the night before. Mark kept an eye on my heartrate and pace and I just span my legs. I managed 29km in that hour which considering the terrain, and the sore throat I began to feel that morning, I was pleased with. We then had a quick transition and got our trainers on. This run was hideous - we were pretty much going vertically along a small stony coastal path - not my best performance but had a nice chat with Mark and it was good to experience the burn and make gains and race plans when coming back down the hill. Wales was always going to be a tactical race - I am not a natural runner and I need to get used to using my grit determination to plod up and then take advantage of the downs. I did 4h50 for my marathon in Tenby last year, that can only get better.

The open road

Made it to Pembroke!

Mid smile ride

Finishing selfie

Off on the run

Taking advantage of the down

Posing on the way up! (for a break)

Finishing selfie!

Thumbs up!

 We all had some lunch again at 'The Moorings' and then got on the long road home. It took 7 hours as well as a break down (in the car) before we got home at a stupidly early time. By this time my sore throat was now a full blown cold and I felt rough. I must've looked a sight as I had tissue stuck up my nose the whole way!

 I had a lovely weekend in Tenby. Training wise it was tough but rewarding and I am so grateful to Mark for patiently and passionately helping me as always. On an emotional level it was comforting to know I can go back to Tenby and see the beauty of the area not just the pain it caused me (especially as I cycled past were we stayed last year as a family). Lastly, it is also a weekend I shall cherish as in the days that followed Dan and I went our separate ways. I am not going to delve into this as it is too raw for us both and also not fair. Within the space of a few days I have made some huge U-turns in how my life was planned out to be. The break down of my 5 year relationship and losing of one of my biggest supporters is heartbreaking. I don't need to explain my emotions but it is obviously painful. Not having him in Wales to support me brings me to tears every time. He would've been the one screaming my time splits out and as he went to every event, no matter how small, he knows what I have to do as well as what I can do. I always craved seeing his face and hearing him push me on, refusing to let me crumble in his arms when everything hurts. I am now relocating permanently near my parents - something I feel I need and want. I have relished being a 10 minute journey away from my family since I moved out alone a month ago. I can pop over for a cup of tea whenever I want. I am also looking forward to spending more time with my nieces and nephew. I have an amazing bond with them all and I want to make that even stronger especially as they are all growing up so fast and I have another nephew on the way in 3 weeks! On another note I also know my baby boy (my pug) Larry will be in safe hands with my family as they have offered to help with the dog sitting when I am on my long 12 hour shifts (which means I am away for 15 hours with my commute). My mum even said she would mow my lawn for me if I am that close so it's not only me who is excited about being closer to my family! Pulling out of the house I fell in love with and the life we had planned and made in Buckinghamshire was, and still is, absolutely devastating but I know all I am doing is best for me, my family, training and to cope with the loss of Rosie. Everything I have gone through in the last 10 months has proved that life can change so quickly - savour every moment.

 On another note, I have decided to pull out of the Outlaw at the end of July. This is an Ironman distance event and although a flat course I have been worried for a while it would be too much for my body to do with Ironman Wales 7 weeks after. I need to peak in Wales in order to even have a shot at qualifying this year and as Lanzarote took so much out of me I cannot risk that slow recovery happening again. This means I can go on my training week to Lanzarote in 10 days without having to worry I am pushing it too much for Outlaw. This was a hard decision for the emotional connection I have to the location; Rosie went to university in nottingham. I was also looking forward to meeting many twitter followers there. On this note, despite my previous frustration with the organisers of Outlaw over their lack of apparent compassion, I owe them a huge thank you - I look forward to becoming an Outlaw one day!

  I want to finish on two final and rather exciting points. Firstly I started my race calender for 2015 by signing up for Ironman Austria next June, which is now sold out. Again, this was a tactical choice. I have chosen a flatter course and am going to focus on getting faster. I have a year to improve my speed and become a runner. Without being pessimistic I need a back up in case Wales this year does not go to plan. Austria is one I have always wanted to do so I have the passion to want to compete there next year and as Wales would qualify for Kona in 2015 this would be a good training race if I do qualify. I am planning on making a European road trip out of this event making it my annual holiday and camping throughout the places I am keen to experience and staying on site of the Ironman. So it'll be a fun holiday for me to prepare for.
 Secondly, I found out on Monday that I have qualified to represent Great Britain at the European Middle Distance Championships in Mallorca in October. I have achieved a dream I never even thought was possible and will have a GB trisuit! Although I can acknowledge this achievement I am not going to get carried away. I will never earn money from triathlon (that dream is just not possible) - it is merely a passion and my hobby. I will wear my earned trisuit in October and then hang it up (possibly even frame it). It will simply be something to tell the grandkids.

Ironman Wales I'm coming!

Bright and smiles :)

For Rosie